You and Kaidan
by Karyukai
Summary: Things are going to hell, it's tough to buy your own propaganda, and things between you and Kaidan are one hot, frayed mess. But he's all you need to keep going. You have to fix this. You have to feel him in your arms again. C'mon, Shepard, you can do this. /gender neutral, fluffy angst romance and smex. Set after Citidel Priority 1.
1. Nightmares

**A/N: I'm hoping this story can be accessible to everyone, male or female. If you;re a m/m Shenko fan I've written this with the headcanon that Kaidan and m!Shep had some form of relationship in ME1, even if it was just confused, secret, stolen, impulsive moments. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Kaidan..." you whisper, lilting your voice.

He sits in a cream-leather chair, head drooped on one shoulder, snoozing. The dim lighting casts shadows across his skin and for a moment you think his life is written in every mark, freckle, and line. You straighten up and sigh, unable to resist smiling.

As you watch his chest rise and fall, the tension in your shoulders melts away. _He's here. _After everything, Kaidan is here, with you, on the Normandy. A tingling warmth fills your stomach and curls throughout your chest, wrapping your heart in contentment.

Kaidan.

You notice the streaks of grey above his ears and the laugh-lines around his eyes, not completely smoothed away even in sleep. Neither of you are young any more, not as young as you used to be. Not as young as when you met—_soft hands, chaste kisses, fewer scars, burning and entwined and sleepless with glee. _It seems a lifetime ago.

You take a deep breath, place your hands on your hips and pace to the window thinking, _I'm only thirty-one_,but inside you're much older. You've lived forever, you've lived twice, and yet you haven't really lived at all.

Stars glitter beyond the window and in every, endless direction. Are there as many stars as there are people? A wave of regret threatens to puncture the peace Kaidan gives you, as a list of names scroll through your mind. Too many names and lost faces, you feel each one like a bullet wound. You tried so hard, goddamn did you try, but it wasn't enough. Too many wrong decisions, or slow reactions, or stupid calls, or...

Blaming yourself won't change anything, but you have to blame something. _Reapers, blame the Reapers. _You screw your eyes shut and recall the red hologram of Sovereign, way back on Virmire. You've seen enough of the bastards now, but for some reason his glowing form is the only one you can recall with vivid detail.

The tension returns to your shoulders, knotting your neck, and you fold your arms. Another deep...deep...breath...

Opening your eyes, you look back at Kaidan. _He's here. _It doesn't matter what may come; so long as you don't lose him, too, you can keep going. The Normandy crew is your family and you would never abandon them, but Kaidan is your heart. You've heard that it's bad to centre your happiness on one person, and that it's dangerous to need someone the way you need him, but when you've lost so much and the universe is turning to you for answers you don't have... Is it so bad right now?

Looking at his handsome face, you decide, _no_, you need _something_. We all need to hope for something. And all you want is to _live_. You want to live with Kaidan.

He stirs and air whistles through his nose. Your smile returns. Time stands still. It's quiet in here, the distant engines purr inside every wall and the air-system hums like a sea breeze. The sea... Thane's voice ripples in your thoughts, dispersing the last wave of hope you're clinging to. He'll never see the Reapers crushed. He'll never know if his son lives to see a brighter future. He died trusting you and despite your promises, every word had been hollow.

Tears clog your throat and twist your lungs as the names begin to scroll again. Unable to stand it, you rush to Kaidan's chair, drop to one knee and stroke his arm.

"Hey..." you gush. "Rise and shine." You massage his skin beneath your fingers, memorising the texture and reaffirming your connected—deeper than touch, deeper than whispers and secrets and vows.

Kaidan blinks and stretches his stiff neck, as if awakening from being cursed to sleep in stone. His bleary eyes register your face, and he smirks. No words needed. But then he looks, really _looks _at you, and the sunshine in his smirk fades.

"Hey, you alright?" he asks, musky with sleep. His hot hand slides up to your shoulder, up your neck, and his fingers brush you like a pianist stroking well-worn keys.

"Yeah," you croak. Good job, very convincing. You close your eyes and feel tears rush over your cheeks, escaping the first chance they get. _Ugh_. You brush them away, wipe them on your uniform, and rub until your cheeks are dry, all before Kaidan can even think to do it for you.

"Shepard..." he breathes, and leans forward. Ah, no one says your name quite like he does. You smile a real smile, stretching the age lines you know are there. His concern is evident as his hand cups your cheek, and it's then you realise what you need.

"Will you..." No, maybe you shouldn't ask. Things have been rough, and he's only just starting to trust you again. White hot pain lances through you at this thought; this repetitive thought that makes you miserable in the early hours of the morning. You just want him beside you. Another soul to comfort you when the lights are out.

With his free hand, Kaidan finds yours. He kisses it, leaving behind a gentle, invisible imprint. "Will I what?"

You can't say it. You shouldn't say it. The words tremble against your lips, but _it's too soon, don't ruin this. _You shake your head, dismissing what you started. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah," he says, "but I think I slept for too long. My neck..." Kaidan stretches his neck back and forth, then stares into your eyes with unflinching openness. He takes up both your hands now and strokes them absently. "So, what is it? You can tell me anything, I'll always listen," he says.

Say anything—anything but the thing you want. "I miss you." Good start, roll with it, be honest. "You're here, but I don't feel like we talk enough."

He thinks about this, takes it in. "Yeah, I guess you're right. We're both busy, we're both tired... I don't mean to shut you out. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just so preoccupied with my work that... I guess I need to learn to take a break, but somehow you keep on going and I feel like I should as well, and... That's not to say that—what I mean is, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

It is his fault, he won't talk. No, it's your fault, you don't ask the right questions. No, you both suck. _Ugh_, this isn't what you want to discuss. You want to skip over the whole uncertain dance of 'getting to know one another' and press against his body, chat benign crap without feeling awkward. You _already _know each other.

Kaidan pinches the bridge of his nose and kneads his eyes. "When I'm not working, I start to feel useless," he says. "I don't like stopping for too long, because everything gets on top of me. All the people we left behind on Earth, my squad out there fighting while I'm sat here, my parents..."

You nod. "I feel that," you say. "I understand." Taking a deep breath, you decide to at least talk around your nagging request. "I can't sleep at night—I have nightmares." Admitting this seems childish, but already you feel some relief. "It's always the same with slight variations. I can't run fast enough, everything's grey, ashen, and shadows of people are everywhere like they've gone for a stroll in the park. And then I burn alive, and I'm holding a child I saw on Earth...right before we left."

Kaidan sighs and moves to the edge of his chair. He strokes his thumb across your cheek and, after all this time, you think you've never felt anything so wonderful. Your eyes close and a smile returns. His touch sends bliss tingling down your neck and between your shoulders, but when you look at him again, Kaidan is not smiling.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, studying your face. You know he's sorry you're not sleeping but, in the back of your mind, you wonder if there's more he's not saying. "I wish there was something I could do."

His gaze flickers to your lips and hope bursts wild, ragged, and raw beneath your ribs—it burns like, well, a nightmare. You focus on maintaining shallow breathes. _Kiss me_. _Let me kiss you. _It's been so long that you can't remember how good his lips feel, you just know it's true. The memory of his mouth against yours is a whisper, warm and soft and fading.

"Kaidan..." From the heavy frown on his face you can see he's as unhappy as you are. He squeezes your shoulder, then clasps his hands as if to stop himself from touching you any longer. _Perhaps I'm being unfair to him_, you think. You're not acting like yourself.

"Thank you," you say, and rise to your feet. The tension returns to your limbs and sickness swirls inside. Kaidan straightens and tries to look cheerful. "I didn't mean to lay my problems on you, but thanks for listening. I appreciate it."

"Any time, Shepard." He gets to his feet. "You know where I am." Unable to hold your gaze, he brushes past and leaves you standing in the Observation Deck.

You hold your head high, hold your breath, and hold onto whatever dignity you have left. You're Commander Shepard, you'll be fine.

* * *

You're not fine. Everything's going to crap and you still don't have answers—you don't even know what 'the Crucible' is, yet. Time is slipping through your fingers and the pressure of it all crushes you each morning. It's getting harder to roll out of bed, _what's the point? _but of course there's a point. We have to try. Our lives are the point. Kaidan is the point.

Make a list of all the things that have to be done today. Tasks you can delegate, missions you can achieve, missions you probably can't...

Wincing, you lean over your desk to scribble it all down before the day kicks off. Your bruises don't fade any more, there's barely time to rub omni-gel on them before the next assignment, but it could be worse. You could be another name on the memorial wall.

List complete, you straighten up, stretch, practice smiling and search for that spark of energy that gets you through the day. _It'll be all right. _A light blinks on your terminal: 83 new messages.

"EDI, can you separate my messages into sub-folders?"

"Of course, Shepard," she responds, her bodiless voice filling the cabin. On the monitor, information alters and shifts as if by itself, and in moments, it's done. "Messages from the crew are highlighted orange," EDI says. Man, her voice is soothing. It's easy to forget this now that she has a humanoid body, wandering about the Normandy. Maybe you should ask her to read you to sleep one of these days, it might help.

"Thanks."

You click the orange folder. No matter what it entails, you love getting messages from the crew. Their needs come first, period.

"Will that be all?" EDI asks.

You nod, uncertain if she still has 'eyes' in your room. "That's it for now."

"Logging you out, Shepard."

Nine new messages? Wow, you're popular today.

Wait.

**New Message:** Dinner

**From:** Kaidan Alenko

Dinner_? _What dinner? Is he proposing to have dinner _together_? Like, a date? _Dinner_?

Do you save his email for last, or open it right away? Now or later, you'll be thinking about its contents. Best not to read everyone else's messages when your attention is divided. You open his first.

_Hey Shepard,_

_Sorry about last night. I don't know about you, but I could sure use a little breather._

Good call.


	2. Sanity

Even when damaged, half on fire, and up-to-your-eyeballs in security procedures, the Citadel is still beautiful. A kaleidoscope of blues and purples, moving pictures, plant-life (you miss that on the Normandy) and soothing, well-balanced lights.

Last time you were in this ward, you were blasting holes through Cerberus infiltrators. You straighten out your casual uniform and fiddle with the belt clip. You'd rather hide in your armour—cosy, covered-up, and protected—but you know it can't shield you from Kaidan. Whatever he has to say, you'll just have to take it. _Be an adult. _No, you'd rather not be an adult. At least the Alliance pays your bills.

He's visible from the top steps, sitting by himself at a table for three. His hands are clasped and most of his weight is leant forward. Kaidan rubs his hair, rearranging it in places, and then massages his face. At least he's nervous, too. You stand there as long as you dare, grinning. A date with Kaidan Alenko. God, what are you? Sixteen?

You rap the banister, then head down the steps and stride on over. You're so stiff you feel like the epitome of great posture.

"Hey Kaidan," you say. That came out smoother than expected. We're off to a good start. Butterflies tumble in your stomach when he twists around and beams at you. Out of everyone in the food court, approaching Kaidan is like greeting a celebrity. Wait, aren't you the celebrity? This makes a pleasant change. Everything about him captivates you and you haven't even sat down yet. _Slow down there, Commander!_

He remains focused on the data board in his hand and says, "Surprised this place can still get supplies for a menu like this." Kaidan always was good at launching into chit-chat.

Grinning, you slide into the chair beside him. "Maybe it's best if we don't ask how...or _where_."

Setting aside the menu, Kaidan leans on the tabletop and meets your gaze with steady, whiskey brown eyes. Giddiness rushes inside, right down from your boots to the curve of your neck. You can't help but shy away, he doesn't look nearly as nervous up close, so you take the menu and focus on that instead.

"I'm glad we're taking the time to do this," he says, smiling. _Ah! That smile._ "I could use a sanity check."

_You and me both. _Probably better you don't admit that out loud. "Things have been pretty crazy," you sigh instead.

And then, just like that, he shatters the pretence that you're here for small talk.

"You know, my life flashed before my eyes on Mars—and..." Kaidan glances aside and his smile saddens. A harsh tug fills your chest as you see flashes of Kaidan being hammered to death against a burning shuttle. You frown. Something like that can't ever happen again, the grief alone might destroy you. He meets your eye once more. "There weren't enough moments like this, with people I care about."

At this, you can't help but tense. Your heart soars, your stomach swoops, but hold on. Where is this going? Don't open your mouth and say something stupid, Shepard. Keep a neutral expression, c'mon, you can do it.

"How are you feeling these days?" you ask. What you really mean is: _can we fix this? Do you want me? Please say you're lovesick. With me, of course._

He nods and flicks his wrist. "Feeling up to whatever the Reapers throw at me."

Huh, well, he sounds better than you right now. Christ.

A smile softens Kaidan's eyes as he adds, "And grateful that I convinced you to sit down for half a second and relax." Cheeky bastard. It's hard to deny though, you don't exactly stop to admire the view very much. Whatever you do see of the Citadel is usually in passing during a quick march, when you don't have the energy to jog to and fro any more.

"Yeah," you say, and finally look him straight in the eye. "I think it's a good time for us to have a heart-to-heart." You mimic his posture and lean forward, clasping your hands together just to make sure you're sturdy for whatever he throws at you. _Keep it light. _"What are you drinkin'?" you tease.

He chuckles. "If you're trying to butter me up, it might take a nice steak sandwich too."

"So..."

"Shot of whiskey and a good old Canadian lager," he laughs. "Think they have it?"

You pretend to look at the menu and raise an eyebrow. "More likely to have Batarian Shard Wine." Your mouth dries up just thinking about the cool, greenish beverage. _No _thanks. But shooting whiskey wouldn't go amiss, the staccato rhythm against your chest is starting to make you dizzy.

"At my parents place in Vancouver, we drank more than a few beers on their balcony, looking over English Bay." He gazes off over the balcony of the food quad with a gentleness in his eyes, almost like he's looking over English Bay right now and he can hear the hush of the waves, feel the sea breeze across his cheeks. You admire that fleeting, gentle look and try to memorise it for later.

"Yeah," he says, "beautiful view..."

Yes, it is.

He turns back to you, full of vigour. "You what, though? I feel good about our chances."

_You what_? What news station is he listening to, it might pay to tune in yourself. Still, hearing him say that reawakens a flame of hope, the one you pretend still burns bright inside. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Lets me sleep better at night."

"You not sleeping, Kaidan?" Why the hell didn't he tell you that last night? You felt so stupid after admitting the same thing that you kicked yourself for hours after getting into bed.

"Maybe a little restless... At least, nothing to really freak out over. You have it worse, so, you know..."

_Eech_, yeah, great. You stare at him, unsettled that he's now more interested in the colour of the table, and you find that, actually, you don't want to speak. You've done enough talking and negotiating and appealing to last a life time. It's his turn. So you wait a moment longer, nerves twisting tighter in your stomach.

At last, he speaks. "The war isn't the only thing keeping me up at night..." You hold your breath. "I wonder about us."

GOOD. CRAP. DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG... SHIT, WHAT NOW? WHAT ELSE, ALENKO?

"Us?" you repeat, not batting an eyelid.

"It's just—you plan a career, you focus, then suddenly the world's ending and it's too late to...say what you should have said sooner. It's too late to find time with someone."

Is he turning you down before you've even tried? What does he _mean _by that? You hold your breath again, trying desperately not to panic. "What should you have said?" you manage to ask.

When he looks up at you the universe shrinks into this everlasting moment and all your breath escapes in one long, shallow take.

"I love you, Shepard. I always have. I wanna understand what this is between us...and make it real." He huffs and your heart almost splits in two as he tries to hide how vulnerable he feels. His voice deepens with the effort. "That's what I want. What do you want?"

How can you possibly put into words what you've been wanting? _Everything_. Everything to do with him and every kiss that's gone unshared since your death. The intensity of this radiates in the tone of your voice as you try to pour these pains into each word. "I can't bury what I feel for you anymore. And I don't want to. I miss having someone to turn to when things get grim. Someone to live for. That's always been you, Kaidan."

Kaidan takes your hand in his and you grin at each other like idiots, which you are, really, given all this song and dance just to admit, '_hey I still like you, is that okay?_' Adults. Sheesh.

"And that," he places your hand against his scuppered cheek, "makes me so happy."

Makes _him _so happy? It's an effort not to jump out your seat and shout about it to the whole presidium. Your smile stretches to the point of pain. It's a nice feeling.

"And there are benefits to that happiness..." he whispers, kissing your palm.

Oh man, what politician did you make happy to hear all this in one sitting? Heat blossoms down your thighs and rushes through your chest. It's an effort not to dive across the space between you right then and there. You pull his hand towards you instead and clutch it to your chest, where the hot, entwining, magnetic need for him is strongest.

Kaidan laughs again. "But more on that later."

"Later?" you exclaim. "We need to get back to the Normandy, ASAP." Just as you push back your chair, ready to run off with his hand clenched in yours, the waiter pushes between you both to place your orders down. You let go of his hand and the feeling of _need_ grows stronger.

"Ah, too late!" says Kaidan, amused by your struggling desires. "Our drinks are here, and...I'm gonna take my time."

Right. Right. _Slow down, Commander. _You take up your drink and the greatest sensation of peace melts into your shoulders. Kaidan's here, he's with you, and he loves you. Aside from getting him alone in your cabin sometime, what else do you need? He's right, there is a chance and there is a purpose. It's smiling at you right now.

"What you call it?" you ask. "A sanity check?"

"Mm, sanity check."

You could do with a little sanity.


End file.
